''God, this is seriously good.''
Snow laughs, biting into a slice of garlic bread and watching her teenaged daughter put away her second plate of pasta, showing no signs of discomfort – or slowing down – whatsoever. Snow could vaguely remember a time when she herself could eat the richest, heaviest things with gusto and retain slenderness with little effort, a long time ago. But that was the one saving grace of being a teenager, she supposed – you could eat nonstop but at the end of the day, you'd still be hungry. Emma was small, and it wasn't entirely down to good genes or her age, however nice a thought that would be. Her daughter's past was dark, darker than the past of any sixteen year old girl had the right to be, and Snow barely knew anything of it.
''I'm glad,'' Snow replied, finishing the bread. ''You're going to be fighting your father for the leftovers tomorrow.''
From her right, Charming groaned. ''It was delicious, Snow. I'm never eating again, though, I don't know if I can even move.''
Snow snorted. ''Until you remember about the ice cream in the freezer in three hours.''
Emma looked up. ''There's still ice cream?''
Shaking her head in mock exasperation, Snow smiled to herself, and began clearing empty dishes. Emma finished her last bite and stacked her salad bowl onto the plate, standing and stretching, putting a hand over her stomach. ''Thanks for dinner,'' she said as she lifted her plate, heading towards the kitchen, ''and for reminding me about the ice cream.''
''Don't eat it too late,'' Snow called to her retreating back, ''you won't sleep. And help me with dishes, please?''
''Yes, mom,'' was Emma's sassy reply, though not without genuine affection. The sounds of clattering dishes echoed from the kitchen, though Snow hadn't moved to follow her daughter, standing frozen at the edge of the table with a spoon in her hand.
This made the third time she had called either of them by their titles – and the only time that it hadn't been while they were in peril.
Charming was gazing up at her. Snow sat the spoon back into the bowl and sighed, beginning to move again. Warmth filled her chest and a smile tugged at her lips, and she shared a look with her husband – he was the only other person who could truly understand the significance of Emma's chosen names for them at any given time, and as he reached out to squeeze her hand, she felt the tendrils of hope that always seemed to spring forth whenever these sorts of moments were shared with the three of them.
''Hey, are you guys doing that silent gaze thingy again?''
Emma was standing in the doorway, towel in hand, eyebrow raised. Snow blinked a few times, smiling up at her daughter as Charming kissed her hand and dropped it to the table, standing up.
''First one who finishes the dishes gets the half baked!'' he said, and no other words would have Emma hustling as fast as she was before the sentence was even finished.
Snow snickered, and shook her head as Charming made to take over the task of filling Tupperware. ''Go help Emma,'' was all she said, before smirking. ''I know I'll be comforting one of you later tonight. God help anyone who withholds Ben and Jerry's from you two, honestly...''